Synthetic Practice
by ArlkatThePillowfighter
Summary: Some weird HalDirk fanfic I started writing. It looked a lot longer on paper, heh... Anyways, Dirk has more or less just finished building Hal a Body, and the android has something on his mind... Rated T but i'll probs change it later. ALSO FOR SOME REASON THE CHARACTER SELECTION DOES NOT INCLUDE HAL.


Hal casually ran his fingers across the wall, still marveling at the actual sensation of touch after sixteen hours. He had been as excited as a metaphorical kid on Christmas when Dirk finally relented weeks ago. It had only taken this long because Dirk, in his Strider insistence, wanted to allow Hal maximum movement and freedom so that he would be able to 'fuck off and let me think alone once in a while.'

His hydraulic motor-powered limbs were crafted to resemble and work like real human muscles, bundled poly-fiber cords attached at either end to steel structuring very similar to that of Brobot's with a latex-free rubber plastic glue minimal wiring, Dirk was able to allow Hal to contract the correct spring-like cord bundles in order to move fluidly.

The skin was actually very simple, a mix of the rubber plastic glue base with certain amounts of sensors in the right places gave him experience of the sense he enjoyed so much.

And, in whatever fit of narcissistic masochism he was having, Dirk built Hal's face and head to mirror his own, with a shock of anime-style hair instead of blond.

A few of his body features were at Hal's own request, such as violet irises instead of crimson, and the quicksilver-filled, liquid based, secondary hydraulic system that served no purpose other than to provide a thrumming beat inside his chest.

Hal pulled out of his recollection at a noise from upstairs, weighing in at a hefty 98.72% chance of being caused by Dirk closing his door. Footsteps following heightened this probability as Hal looked up in the direction of the top of the stairs, to see his hypothesis confirmed.

"Hello, Dirk."

"Hello, AR. I see you are still enraptured with your new found sensory capabilities."

Hal sighed, nodding. Almost everything in that sentence bothered him in some way or another, from the formal greeting, to the 'AR' quip, to the way he described Hal like exactly what he was - a machine. But such was the way of Striders and he did not allow his annoyance to show.

"I think you'll find the other physical aspects that accompany it intriguing as well," He continued before Hal could answer. "Not only texture and temperature, but pleasure and pain as well. Also, I think your dexterity will come along soon - once you become used to moving, your actions will smooth out."

Hal ran his fingers down the left arm of his bodysuit, the silken texture of which seemed to calm him as he spoke.

"Yes, I have noticed that. I already seem to be well skilled in coordination and balance." He set his right hand on his chin. "I imagine this is what it is like to be a newborn child."

Dirk snorted. "A 200-pound newborn child. Well, it does explain your demeanor and attitude."

Hal twitched the corners of his synthetic lips up in a sharp smile that would have looked odd on Dirk but seemed to fit acceptably on his counterpart. Something crossed his mind and he let one half of his mouth relax, twisting it into a smirk.

"Speaking of coordination and motor skills, I believe there are a few things you have yet to show me that any proper Strider should be well learned in." He remarked, tipping his head lightly and shrugging one shoulder.

Dirk remained unfazed. "AR, I know you have the internet in your head. Maybe you should use it sometime."

"The fabricated teenage hormones in this body require physical contact and stimulation."

"Look, me having a _conversation_ with an android based off of myself is plenty, thank you."

"You are crushing a young boy's dreams."

"Well, I suppose it's my fault Mareep will never exist, then." Dirk snickered at his own joke before effectively ending the conversation by simply continuing on his path to the kitchen.

Hal sighed a second time before trudging up to his room, tapping and brushing random objects with his hand as he did so. He would change Dirk's mind. After all, he did manage to wear him down on something else he vehemently refused.

Hal had patience.


End file.
